Painful Promise
by HPTR Fangirl
Summary: Thinking that Tom will hate him, Harry keeps a painful secret. Slowly, this secret takes over Harry's life physically and emotionally. What happens when Tom finds out the secret? Not compatibale with the DH book. Please review.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, Warner Brothers and its affiliates. It does not belong to me.

**Rating:** M.

**Chapter 1: The Betrayal**

Harry found himself in a big dark room, whose interior nearly looked like the facsimile of the Great Hall. On the ceiling of the room, were several lighted candles, which floated with the help of magic; the black color of the sky could be seen, with stars sparkling. In the corridor, outside the door, a giant glass chandelier was placed, which gave of a brilliant light; some of its radiance even came inside the room Harry was in, currently; the room had taken on an appearance of being something ethereal, when the brightness of the glass chandelier contrasted with the dimness of the room.

Harry was virtually in the middle of the room, where people in attendance either admonished him or reprimanded him; some more harshly than others. That was to be expected, or so Harry thought, after he had confessed to what he had done.

"How could you do this to him, Harry? Huh! Tell me!" Hermione practically shouted, almost like Molly did when her husband, Arthur, had used muggle treatment when a snake bit him; she did not care that the other people were present.

But Hermione wasn't the only one who was incensed and furious with Harry.

Ron, Draco, Tom Riddle, Albus Dumbledore, McGonagall, Severus Snape, and everyone else present in the room were furious with Harry. Their eyes blazed and glowed with rage, with anger practically radiating from them.

"I am so disappointed in you, Harry; I had never, in my dreams, thought you'd do something like this," said Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts, forlornly, looking as old as he really was.

Harry didn't say anything, except to look down at his feet, with tears running down his face. He felt that he deserved everything and more so. He had known what other people's reaction would be after he had told them the truth.

"You have basically betrayed Tom by what you did, and I doubt that he is going to forgive you easily. I know him quite well, almost like you do, Potter." Draco Malfoy, said the resident Slytherin severely. Draco was in the seventh year of his schooling at Hogwarts along with Tom Riddle and others. He had called Harry '_Potter_,' instead of _Harry._

Ron also wanted to bellow out something acerbic and scathing like Draco would normally say, "You self-conceited jerk! You stupid little…" but looking at Harry's face, his words stopped at his mouth. Instead he replied, "Hey mate, I really don't know what I want say except that…" He waited for a few seconds, and then he ended his speech by saying, "…you messed up big time, Harry." Ron, the second youngest of the Weasley children, was Harry's friend, who was also in the seventh year.

Others like Luna, Cho, Ginny, Zacharias, and Seamus looked at Harry with a mixture of sympathy and pity, whilst Severus Snape, the Head of Slytherin, looked down right furious. "Never trust a Gryffindor, particularly a Potter at that," replied Snape scornfully, with sneer virtually radiating, "I knew that James's prodigy would be more like his father, a pure-blood arrogant bastard. Then cross this with his mudblood mother, Lily; the outcome: a half-blood cocky and self-conceited son, who thinks he knows the best."

"Severus!" said McGonagall, the Head of Gryffindor, and Dumbledore at the same time, at the mention of the words _mudblood _and _pureblood_.

"Behave yourself, Severus!"

"But Headmaster, I- …" Professor Snape tried to say, however, Dumbledore leaving no room for arguing back, sternly retorted saying, "You are a Professor, Severus, so act like one! Name-calling a student, just because of a personal grudge, is not a professional behavior. Especially not, when you're present in front of the students and other teachers."

"My mother is not a mudblood…"Harry said inaudibly, but he was interrupted; this time by Tom himself.

"Your mother may not consider your mother to be a _mudblood_, but you, Harry, are much more of a lowlife than her. At least, she knew the meaning of the words honour, devotion, and faithfulness." Tom said unemotionally, with abhorrence and disgust dripping from his mouth with every word he spoke. He was trying very hard to not loose his control.

Those words stung profoundly in Harry's heart; Tom was his partner, mate, and without a doubt his best friend, "I'm sorry…" Harry tried to said remorsefully when…

SMACK!

Everyone present in the room heard the resounding noise of a slap; some of them were shocked, while others gasped. The entire school had known that Tom always kept to himself, never lashed out at others; after all, resorting to any form of violent behavior is not an attribute of a model student.

Harry had felt Tom's slap on his cheeks, which was scarlet red now.

Then Tom interjected him once more "You're sorry, or so you say… but you know what…" Tom had stopped for a few seconds before speaking. "… For once, I really hate you! For what you've done, Harry, I will never forgive you! I should've never trusted you."

In the beginning, Draco and the other Slytherins were not in good terms with Harry and his friends, as they belonged in Gryffindor House; and the saying went, particularly in Hogwarts' history, that Gryffindor and Slytherin were bitter adversaries. Although the Sorting Hat mentioned that they were the acquaintances, but as time passed their outlook on life perspectives changed. Moreover, they also had opposing views regarding muggle-born witches and wizards. All these changes in outlook not only led to hostility between Slytherin and Gryffindor, but also with other Houses against Slytherin.

Tom Riddle, the enigmatic and handsome Slytherin Head-Boy, didn't trust Harry particularly. Before their sixth year, they often fought with each other, just as much Harry, Hermione, and Ron fought with Malfoy, although their (Tom and Harry's) fight was never physical. Their clashing was more often about who knew much in the class, particularly regarding the Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions. But towards the end of sixth year, a contest was held in which opposing rivals were partnered up; but in their case all five of them were paired up: Tom, Harry, Draco, Hermione, and Ron. By the end of the competition, all of them had become virtually close friends.

"Potter," said, the transfiguration teacher, McGonagall furiously, "Everybody knows that you care a great deal about Tom. You professed your feelings and sentiments to him; yet, you have done this indulgence. How could you? You didn't protect Tom, by keeping quiet about the entire incident. Why didn't you tell him the first time it happened?"

"Professor McGonagall," said Ginny softly, "What Harry had faced is painful enough, without us criticizing him so severely." She was trying to defend Harry on her behalf; additionally, she was also trying calm to the charged atmosphere of the room.

"You'd say that, wouldn't you, Ginny. After all, it's not a secret, that you have a crush on him since your childhood days," said Pansy, Draco's ex-girlfriend viciously. "At least Draco was honest enough when he broke up with me. He didn't lie behind my back."

"Pansy, that's enough…" said Neville, Ginny's boyfriend. They all heard Harry whispering something, which was hard to discern.

"…But I never wanted to do it in the first place, Tom." Harry cried persistently.

Even after getting slapped, Harry still went near Tom, to ask for his forgiveness "Tom, please, I'm sorry. I thought…" but he couldn't say anything further than that.

"Shut up, Harry! Just shut up! I'm in no mood for listening anymore of your excuses or apologies." Said Tom. He looked at Harry deathly cold eyes and said in that same tone, "You're nothing but a whore! And I do not want anything to do with a slut!"

After saying this, Tom just went out of the room, without even glancing back at once at Harry; he did not look at Harry's tears, or at his remorse, in his anger. Soon others started to depart from the room as well, some mumbling incoherently, while others not bothering to hide their feelings.

"Two-timing infidel!" said someone.

"Unfaithful lover! I could never believe that you did this to Tom." Luna said and left the room.

Dumbledore and Snape were the last ones leaving the hall. While one had melancholy expression on his face, the other had irritation lining his visage. Everyone had his or her own emotions, thoughts and deliberation about the unpleasant incident.

When everyone had left the room, Harry broke down and started to cry inconsolably. No one was there for him. Why there would be? No one would forgive for his transgression. No one!

Suddenly a cold laughter echoed through the entire room, "You do remember what I said, Potter." The voice continued to cackle, reverberating throughout the room "No one will like you. They all will hate you, if you admit the truth. I said that, didn't I?" The voice stopped for a few seconds, as if it was contemplating something.

"It seems I was right, after all, my darling. You have said one-side of the story, and you've seen their reaction."

"I will not be intimidated by you. Do you understand?" Harry said between his sniffles, even though he looked shattered. "I will tell others about your involvement into it also. I-I-I… promise…"

"You'll tell the others about me," the voice snickered, "Do you think others will believe you, especially if you tell them about me. And even if they do believe, don't you think they'll hate you even more." Then the voice waited again.

"What did Tom call you? Ah, yes, he called you 'a whore!' and 'a slut!'" It said mockingly. "Do you think you can Tom's hate, my dear," the voice questioned, "Will you be able to take and share the pain and anger he will go through?" the voice virtually screeched because it had found Harry's Achilles' heel.

Then the cold voice went abruptly, as it had come, leaving Harry with his tears and loneliness for company.

But the words "Do you think you can take Tom's hate, my dear" kept echoing throughout Harry's mind.

**Author notes: **This is an AU story since Harry is not The-Boy-Who-Lived and Tom is not the Dark Lord. Additionally, I have tried making both Harry and Tom being in seventh years as the others. I have tried my best to keep the characters in character, but some times I think they went OOC. Flames will be accepted, if it comes with **constructive criticism**.

A beta-reader would be appreciated. Please contact me in my profile.

**Question:** Tell me should I continue with the story, or not?


	2. The Nightmare and Happy Memories

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers and its affiliates. It does not belong to me.

**Rating: **M.

Dream sequences and flashback are written in Italics.

**Note: **Reference**s **to Harry being drawn as a girl—My first attempt at a humour to slightly lower the angst level in the story.

**Chapter 2: The Nightmare and Happy Memories **

Suddenly, Harry woke screaming from his red four-poster bed. He gasped for breath. Harry had that dream again. No! Not a dream! But a nightmare, actually.

Although it could become a reality, if he did not obey him.

Harry tried to look around, but the only thing he could see is the darkness; it was below him, above him, surrounding everything around him. The darkness, which stretched for miles, according to Harry's perception, was squeezing him; suffocating him to death. Harry was frightened. When he was young, he was never afraid of the dark; but now, he was. The never-ending horror dream, which he endured for about few months, about what that man could do, made him afraid of the dark. Even though Harry felt afraid of the darkness, at extremely rare occasion, it also provided some measly comfort and protection.

Harry rapidly attempted to open one side the red colored silken-covering drapes hanging around his four-poster bed, (visualize the mosquito nets used in Africa and India) so that he could let a little bit of light fall on his bed, before he started to hyperventilate. When he opened one of the covers, he did not found much light. Everything was dim and shadowy, except for the little light coming into the room. Seeing the light, Harry's fear dissipated to some extent; Light consoled him much more than darkness. When he looked around for its source, he saw that early morning light entering through the open windows of his dorm. The windows were kept open since late March or early April as the temperature became quite warm and humid. By looking at the window, Harry guessed the time to be around four O' clock in the morning; unlike his friends, it was time for him to get up and take bath.

Furthermore, Harry also wanted to see if anyone had woken up, and he was partially glad to find everyone asleep. All of his friends were in their own pleasant dreamland, unlike him. When these nightmares began, he used to scream and shout towards the wee hours of the morning, waking everyone in his dorm. He frequently heard some of his comrades complaining, others giving exasperated glimpses at him. He remembered one such incident vividly:

"_Harry, I hate you! I never want to see you again." Tom told him harshly. Harry's tears were streaming down his face._

"_Poor boy, why are you crying," the voice mocked. "After all dearie, you got what you wanted, didn't you, my dear Harry?"_

"_I never wanted this, do you understand…" Harry shrieked while crying, "… you forced me into doing this. Since the very first time."_

"_I forced you into doing this." The male voice sneered, "Why Harry? You're such a liar. Isn't it true that you are one who wanted me first?"_

"_Even if I did, I loved Tom more than you." Harry replied, but before he could continue anymore…_

_Several voices shouted and screamed at him. Some of these voices belonged Dumbledore, Hermione, Ron, Draco, Tom, Luna, Professor McGonagall, Professor Snape, Pansy, and others. They all were calling him names or scolding him; some harshly and ruthlessly, while others mockingly. Hermione, Snape, and Luna were practically downright merciless and insensitive; Draco and Pansy were angry, callous; Dumbledore was disappointed, but Tom's reaction was as always: cold, uncaring looking at him with his deathly eyes. Harry couldn't take Tom's hate._

_Moreover, he felt someone screaming and chanting, "Dirty! Filthy! Befoul! "And various other words having the same denotation; as he tried to find the source of this mantra, he was stunned that it was coming from himself, or rather from his conscience or inner self._

_Harry couldn't take anymore. He screeched; he cried; he thrashed. He just wanted to run from all this._

_Suddenly he felt someone pulling and jerking his shoulder; he screamed and put his hands in front of his face._

"_Calm down mate… calm down!" Slowly Harry removed his hands and came face to face with Ron. "What happened, Harry?" Ron questioned._

"_Nothing." _

"_Don't lie; we all heard you screaming, kicking, and crying." Ron continued saying, not noticing Harry's face, "You were screaming something like 'Tom, I'm sorry; I did not mean to do this,' and 'I never wanted to do this… you forced me' etc. Is everything alright, Harry?" _

_Even though Harry maintained a neutral, passive face, but on the inside he was completely pale and full of terror. They had heard everything! That was the only thought that running persistently in his mind._

"_I'm fine, Ron," he said taking slow breaths. "It was just a nightmare. But what do you mean by 'we?'"_

_Before Ron could reply, Neville asked, "Is he alright now, Ron?"_

"_Yeah. He just had a bad dream" _

_Harry looked around and found that Neville was yawning and rubbing his eyes. He also found several others grumbling and mumbling, some obviously annoyed as they did not want to wake up from the happy dreams they were having._

"_Use a silencing spell, Harry. Do you understand?" Nate, an ascetic seventh year, retorted back. _

"_I have test tomorrow, and I really need some sleep, please." Said someone else, obviously exasperated not only from the racket and commotion, but also that Ron had lighted the room._

_Others went back to sleep but they still complained about sound proofing the dorm; nevertheless, they all went back to sleep, with Ron not looking convinced about what he (Harry) said. _

_Every time Harry tossed or turned, he thought that Ron was trying to glance at him through the small openings of his silk coverings. At first Harry thought that his eyes were deceiving him, but after closer scrutiny he found that Ron was indeed awake and alert. So, he pretended to go to sleep. _

_He had remained awakened until morning thinking about what to do about his horrid fantasies. His nightmares were starting to affect the sleep of his dorm mates; moreover, he was worried about the questioning looks he would get from Ron, Hermione, Tom and others the next day. He couldn't let that happen anymore. Never! Since then he started using silencing spells around his four-poster bed. Harry placed four or five silencing spells, not just one, for safety measure. He couldn't let anything slip; otherwise everyone will start questioning him. And just to be certain, he had also started to take dreamless potions. _

_After taking his bath and getting ready, he went at a snail's pace towards the Great Hall for breakfast. Before he had entered the Great Hall, he had seen several of his companions eating breakfast, especially Ron (who was eating cereal and milk in such amount as if he had never eaten for a month), Draco, Pansy, Luna, Neville, and Ginny. The only exceptions were Hermione and Tom. Whenever he saw them, he only found them reading books. As he entered the Great Hall, his friends looked at him. _

_He was right about the fact that the day would be the interrogation day from his friends. Most of his friends had quizzical looks on their faces, only exception: Tom. He always kept neutral features. Harry managed to evade their questions by telling them about some horror incident in a haunted house. All of his friends looked convinced, except for Tom. _

_After finishing his breakfast, as Harry was crossing the courtyard to get to the Divination class. Tom followed him silently. _

"_Others may have believed your lie, Harry, but I did not buy your lie?"_

_He whirled around in panic and saw Tom "I did not lie." Regrettably, he had caught my every lie when he asked a few more questions; he ended the talk by saying… _

"_You don't have to lie to me; I know that you don't trust me with the truth. Tell me, is it because I'm a Slytherin?" Without waiting for a reply, Tom left as quickly as he came._

_Those words hurt a lot. Harry sobbed and quietly told,_ _"It's not because that I don't trust you, Tom. It's because you'll hate me once you know the truth." _

Harry woke up from his reverie abruptly; he had his wand nearby. It was placed in some sort of wooden casing, which helped keep the wand in an upright position. Harry took the wand out of the case holder and took it in his hand and chanted "Lumos!" A bright line surrounded within Harry's bed; everything could be seen, nothing lingered or concealed.

Harry looked everywhere within his bed and himself; he realized that was wearing a pinkish-white full tops and a dark purple or magenta-colored pajama. The top was made of light cotton, which was great for summer. The shirt had _Dixie Chicks_ logo design on the front side and light purple flowers designed with HP printed on the backside of the tops. Ron, Draco, Hermione, and rarely Tom, constantly made jokes when he wore that attire saying that he was wearing girl's outfit; in short, he was at the end of feminine comment brunt when we wore that costume; Harry smiled slightly as he reminisced one of those happy times again.

"_Are you again wearing the girl's dress, Harry?" Hermione commented. She was wearing pink half top with a bunch of flowers designed on it and navy blue jeans; her wild brownish-red hair was tied in a ponytail, with a pink colored rubber band. Additionally, she was wearing pink pump shoes. _

"_I told you not to say that, please," he (Harry) whined and gave her his puppy eyes attack. He had woken from his nap about ten minutes ago and was in the bathroom brushing his teeth. _

_But regrettably, the worst was yet to come._

_It was pleasant Saturday morning in May of their sixth year. They were done with their exams (and the contest as well), and they had a week to enjoy before the Hogwarts had closed down for the summer. They had decided during the week, that on the Saturday, they would all go the Hogsmeade town and spend the entire afternoon and would return by seven O' clock. By ten O' clock, Hermione, Tom, and Draco had already geared up, and they were all in Harry's dorm. _

_Ron questioned, "I really wonder what would you've looked liked if you had been born as a girl." _

"_Shut up, Ron!"_

"_Although after wearing that dress, I think I can almost make picture of you as a girl," Ron continued as if he hadn't heard anything. _

_Draco was sitting on a chair in the left corner of Ron's bed near the windows. He was enjoying the cool breeze doing nothing. Abruptly, he stood up from chair and went to the desk close to Harry's bed. There were some white blank papers strewn on the table; there were some quills and ink, as well as some metal type thing with nib, which wrote on the paper just like the quills. Hermione and Harry had called them "pen." _

_So, Draco took a few papers and a pen and went back to his chair and started scribbling and drawing something. After sometime, Hermione became curious about what Draco was doing and went towards him and questioned._

"_What are you doing?"_

"_Oh! Just this and that," he had sly smile on his face, as he said, which all of them noticed. This was never a good thing; well at least according to Harry and Ron._

_But Hermione, being who she was, took the paper out of Draco's hand and looked at it. Her face underwent several shades of emotion: shock, astounded, devilish, amused, slight-embarrassment and last of all laughing out loud with blushes on her cheeks._

"_You actually didn't want to do this, did you?" she inquired, between her giggles_

"_What did he do, Hermione? And why are you laughing" Ron queried, looking puzzled _

"_Whatever you do, Ron, do not give this Harry!" Hermione emphasized. "He'll murder Draco! No question asked!" _

_At this, Tom looked curiously, although he didn't let it shine on his face, and Harry looked petrified, like frightened child. Nonchalantly and quickly he tried to take the paper, as Hermione passed it to Ron, but it seemed that Hermione had expected that. She ducked him rapidly and went to Ron and gave him the document, and well he looked just like she did; after that he was regrettably afraid of what Draco did. _

_Harry once again attempted to take the paper from Ron, and he ran back to Draco. Draco in turn ran to Hermione and said "Catch Hermione!" as Harry gained on him; it was like a catch game, where the said person could not get back the object or item he desperately wanted, as others took it or passed it another person, as he or she attempted to get it. This sort thing was often shown in detective programs in Muggle television, particularly between police and criminals or even among heroes and villains. _

_Unfortunately, for Draco, Ron, and Hermione, they all stumbled together over some clothes left on the floor and fell in heap together; it appeared that there was not much place left for running, sprinting, passing catch because most of the place was taken by the beds and furniture. As Harry approached, he fell on top of them, while they fumbled together so that Harry would not get the paper. Lucky for them, as they were shuffling the paper, a strong cool gust came through one of the windows and blew the paper away from their hands and into Tom's chest. _

_Tom, Harry's secret crush, was wearing plain creamish-yellow jumper and black denims. His combed black hair perfectly contrasted with his black denims, and his bright green eyes made him look even more handsome. Forget girls, anyone who looked at him, would fall for him instantly. Well now the said paper actually fell on his jumpers, and Tom slowly took the paper in his hand and looked, with no emotion revealing on his eyes. And like a perfect gentleman, he gave the paper to Harry, who approached him quite soon. _

_As he looked at the paper, Harry was furious, embarrassed, ashamed, and was beside himself; he didn't know whether to laugh or to cry. _

_The paper did not have any writings on it; instead, Draco had drawn a picture. It depicted a picture of himself, except only as a girl. But not some common everyday girl, Draco had illustrated him as some sort of a bargirl_.

_According to the picture, he had medium length curlish-plain hair that just went slightly below the shoulder blades; his, or rather her, hair was tied in ponytail and the band that had an appearance as if it was made of diamonds. He also had huge breasts, curved hips, and long slender legs; he was wearing a white colored light tops, which was glittering and white miniskirt. Additionally, Harry was wearing white glass high heels and was doing some sort of a seductive lap dance, in the picture. Harry did look quite pretty as a girl. In the bottom, it was printed "Harry — a bar dancer."_

"_Draco!" he bellowed, when his wits caught up to him. Harry was thinking what he would when… _

"_NOOO!" he screeched, instead. Everyone stared at Harry like as if he lost his mind or saw a Hungarian Horntail chasing after him._

_Someone truly said that when it is one of your unlucky days, the bad luck never comes alone it always comes with a platoon **(1)**. The saying was exceptionally accurate for Harry._

_As Harry was gazing at the paper, a very strong breeze came from one of the unlocked windows; the weather appeared to be somewhat gusty. Well, the paper flew from Harry's fingers, and well, it flew outside the window into the grounds outside, where the other students were enjoying the weather. Tom and Ron had to hold Harry off as he tried to jump off the balcony as he attempted to reach the drawing page, while Hermione was looking frightened, leaving Draco shrieking like a girl_.

_The paper was still flying and it flew almost towards the lake where the squid lived. But instead of reaching there, it got stuck in lower branches of a pine tree that was placed in the middle of the school grounds, which was few yards from the Gryffindor Tower; the same tree where Pansy, Luna, Ginny, and some of their female companions were meeting. Unfortunately, meeting was going on under the tree and the paper was slipping from the branches slowly, as if it was torturing Harry. For Harry time passed in slow motion as the paper finally fell into Pansy's hand, and she started saying something to her friends and giggling at the same. Some of them were looking his direction._

"_Malfoy! You're dead!" Harry screamed_.

_While Harry was attempting to hit and punch at Draco, a huge scream was heard outside; at hearing the noise, he had forgotten all about Draco, and ran back to the veranda, where he saw fight, not a fight but a cat fight, broke out between the girls. The fight did not involve much violence, except every one of them shuffling to get that drawing paper. The paper crumbled as the girls were trying to get their hands on it. And things couldn't get worse, when the crumpled piece of paper fell in Dumbledore's hands. (He also came out to enjoy the weather with Professor McGonagall and Snape). _

_This was too much for Harry; he fainted and lucky for him that Tom was behind him. He just caught Harry in the nick of time. _

_For a few days, Harry got looks from the girls as well as the boys because of the Draco's painting_. _And as for Draco, he ended up with getting a detention (he also had to spend two days in the Hospital Wing after Harry came into consciousness, after passing out). _

Harry slowly came out rumination. Those were Harry's exultant and carefree times. The times when he was very happy with his friends, particularly Tom; Harry loved Tom, he was first secret crush. Lucky for him, he had never told anyone. No one! Not even Tom! This would be another secret; just like the other secret, the secret for which he was suffering. He had never known at that time that how those happy moments would come to an end, just at one single moment. Slowly the happiness from the musings was being replaced by fear and dread. Harry remembered his threats and warning.

"If you do not listen to me, and do not do what I want, then I will tell everyone, especially your darling Tom, that what a nice & obedient sex-toy you are, my dear Harry" the male voice taunted and mocked around him constantly as a warning; everything was his fault. After all, he had started it and now he has no choice but to listen to him; Harry thought. He had made one mistake and now he was paying the price. He couldn't let anyone find out his mistake, mainly Tom. As Harry contemplated even more, he did not realize the tears pouring down his eyes like torrents of flood.

Gradually Harry's breath was coming to a normal rate, his heart wasn't beating as crazily as before, but the tears that were falling from Harry's eyes never stopped. It poured down from his eyes, to his cheeks, down to the neck and then to rest of his body in a straight line, unceasingly; he made no attempt to rub his eyes or did anything to stop the relentless flow of tears. As the tears were pouring, he began to mumble silently, "I am clean, not dirty. I'm clean and unsullied. I'm clean." He continued repeating the phrase over and over, like a mantra. Just like the light (and seldom darkness, among other things), this saying comforted him.

Soon, Harry felt his body compelling him to go to the bathroom to take a shower; he couldn't avoid that. This bathroom was a temple and an additional sanctuary for him, especially from his nightmares and painful thoughts. This was the motivation for Harry to awake very early in the morning. Since the incident started, taking a bathe became an important aspect of his life. All he wanted was to bath, bath, and bath. Every single moment of free time he could find, other than classes, study time, and spending time with his friends, he would spend in the bathroom taking baths.

Healers, particularly Muggle doctors like psychologists and psychiatrists or shrinks, would tell him that, the pathetic Harry James Potter, was suffering from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD); Harry thought, although he didn't care very much. After all, anything a person did to get comfort and security, too many times in a day, was believed to be some sort aliment according to the healers or shrinks; he would think more about all this when he would take a bath, Harry decided.

Bit by bit, Harry quietly got out of the bed and went towards the bathroom with the wand in his hand.

**Author notes:** Thank you for the great reviews. I was happy to get six positive reviews, and I hope that you all would like the coming chapters of the story. I hope and anticipate that coming chapters are up to your (readers) reading expectations. Do you think my humor was okay, after all I've never written humors before. Bye... until next time.

**(1)** My dad always said this saying.


	3. Clean

**Disclaimer: **Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers and its affiliates; it does not belong to me.

**Rating: **M.

**Note:** I'll use first POV for the overall chapter, as I'm trying to depict Harry's thoughts on cleanliness. Additionally, flashback imagery is in Italics

**Warning:** I'm not a Christian, but I was educated in a Christian catholic school as a child, and even now I read in Christian affiliated university; hence, I'll use some of the views based on Christian themes and elements on cleanliness. I hope this does not offend you; if you're affronted, then **I'm sorry**.

**Chapter 3: Clean**

Cleanliness is next to Godliness. This was one of the Muggle axioms I had to learn very early in my life. Aunt Petunia's first and foremost discourse was to compel this adage into me – since I was a babe residing in the cupboard under the staircase with the Dursleys. The school where I studied also did a very good job in coaching me this dictum as well.

Aunt Petunia was obsessive with being clean. I would often call her a clean freak, although not out loud. She couldn't stand dirt and grime in and under her house. Even the slightest amount of soot or tarnish on the floor, or even on the carpet or furnishings, gave aunt Petunia an epileptic fit. Everyday she would make me the clean the entire house, every single room, from top to bottom and from left to right. Only exception: Aunt Petunia's and Uncle Vernon's bedroom; she would never let me enter their bedroom. Aunt Petunia would clean it herself; she said that she would never let me, a _freak_, blemish her bedroom.

Dudley's room was whole another business. My aunt and uncle had always taken a special delight in making me clean Dudley's room. As a youngster, he was completely contradictory and opposite to aunt Petunia. Whereas aunt Petunia hated dust and filth, Dudley loved it. He was always filthy. There was always some sort of dirt or pollute on him, whether be it in his dress, or his face, or even his room. Why shouldn't it be? Dudley usually stayed out in the neighborhood playground with his posse during the daytime; he would often go there to bully and terrorize someone, usually _someone_ weak and vulnerable. I know that because I was once one of his victims, but not now. Now he fears me because he knows that I'm a wizard. Ironic, isn't it? Dudley, the bully, gets scared of someone stronger than him, particularly when he is facing that someone alone and unaided. Well, lets not get off-topic here. Dudley frequently came home after dark, say at around six-thirty or seven P.M. And when he came home, his shirt was stained sometimes with blood; soot and dust often accompanied him on his pants and shoes. Long trails of muddy footprints were usually seen going from the entrance of the door to his room. In the end, I was the only one to wash his muddy footprints on the floorboards. Unfortunately, the worst was yet to come.

When a person entered Dudley's room, one would've felt as if he or she penetrated into a jungle, rather than a person's room. Clothes were strewn across the entire room haphazardly; several clothes even had some sort of odor on it as if it hadn't been washed for months. Toys, action figurines, and crayons were frequently scattered all across his floor, sometimes even under the clothes and his divan. Occasionally small sharp razor blades could also be found, if one scrutinized his room very carefully. His schoolbooks and notes were never kept in order. I had once found his mathematics class notes on _Fractions and Divisions _in his reading table and the homework notes in a cabinet filled with his video games and other toys. The homework notes were completely frayed. I actually felt sorry for Dudley because he had a quiz on it the next day, and he couldn't find it (homework notes) anywhere. I had found those notes two days after Dudley had given the quiz. He did very poorly on it. Moreover, Dudley never made his bed nor ever did his chores, let alone cleaning his room. The only reason of orderliness in the room was because I cleaned it; if the room didn't appear pristine and immaculate, I would often receive special treatments from the Dursleys.

Lastly, came me, myself, and I. I always looked skinny and scrawny for my age, even now. People say I have my father's messy jet-black hair, which uncle Vernon as well as aunt Petunia greatly abhorred; they frequently tried to cut my hair, virtually every week to be precise, but unfortunately, my hair wouldn't cooperate with them. My hair seemed to have a mind of its own. Therefore, when hair grew on my head one night unexpectedly, I was penalized to be in a cupboard for a week. I remember that incident quite apparently, since aunt Petunia cut my hair the previous day.

"_BOY! Tell me how did you do it?" Uncle Vernon screamed at the top of his lungs. "And tell me NOW!" My uncle, aunt, and I were in the living room._

"_What did I do, Uncle Vernon? I whimpered. I didn't know what they were talking about; uncle Vernon started hollering at me as soon as I entered the kitchen to make their breakfast. Suddenly he hit me on my face for no apparent reason. My face hurt and it burned, especially, the place where his hand came in contact with my cheeks. _

"_How did you grow all of your hair back in one night?" Uncle Vernon shouted. His face became a shade of deep mauve._

_I touched my hair, and I was shocked to find that all of my hair was back. It felt as if aunt Petunia had never cut my hair in the first place. After all, when I stared into the mirror, right after she nicked my locks of hair, I looked as if I was a complete bald. And I was scared to go to the school after that because I knew everyone would make fun of me, especially Dudley and his tormenter squad. _

"_I don't know…"I only wished my hair to grow back the night before I went to sleep, I thought._

"_It's because of his parents' dirty blood, Vern" Aunt Petunia said, coarsely. "After all, Vern, one rotten apple not only putrefies the other good apples but their progeny as well, doesn't it?"_

_Suddenly a boiling rage exploded in me, in my blood and veins. How dare they insult my dead parents? I know for some reason they hated my parents but calling them "dirty blood." I could withstand being called a freak, a boy, an idiot, and every other insult and abuse, but I could never stand if they or anyone else insulted my parents. _

_Suddenly something happened. Light and television went haywire; a fire started in the couch of the living room we were in. I don't remember what happened after that except for the last part where uncle Vernon ordered me to stay in the cupboard for a week after punishing me few more times. _

I was always punished whenever I did something out of ordinary, according to their view. I was punished when I talked with the boa constrictor at the zoo and removed its glass tank barrier, on my eleventh birthday. They had locked me in a cupboard for a couple of weeks.

See, I drifted off again. I wanted to think about being clean, not Dursleys' castigation. So lets' go back to what I wanted to think about basically.

Like some facts of life, one of the mysteries that always eluded me was this? How a young toddler, no a _freak_ _who dwelled in dust and grime,_ managed to stay clean enough for my clean freak aunt Petunia will always continue to puzzle me. It's a conundrum to me, really. After all my chastisement never centered on my poor hygiene and _cleanliness_. Furthermore, I was never permitted to have any human contact besides my _family_. Hence, dust, mice, cockroaches, and spiders were the only constant company I grew up with. By the way, the only human companionship I got, besides my _family,_ was with old Mrs. Figg. I had often thought of her as being peculiar because she kept only cats for camaraderie.

"_Colloportus!"_ _"Lumos!"_

Harry was in the bathroom; he had placed a locking charm on the door so that no one can open the entryway. Moreover, he lighted the room as well. Slowly, he took off his nightwear one by one and left it on the floor. Harry then wore a light black bathrobe and waited for Dobby to come and take his clothes. Harry then went near the bathtub and turned open one of the tap knobs to let the water flow. He had chosen the knob that appeared scarlet red; this was only for hot water. The din of water falling on the empty white limestone tub was quite vociferous and boisterous; Harry was frightened that it may possibly stir someone up some to investigate the raucous; hence, he spelled…

"_Silencio!"_

Gradually, water filled the entire bathtub; Harry then opened his bathrobe and entered into it completely naked. Naked as the newborn babe. The nightdress that were scattered nearby a few moments ago unexpectedly disappeared, as if it were never there. Dobby and the other house-elves had taken to it the washroom to clean it. He whimpered as entered the bathtub. Harry sat on one side of the tub with his feet alongside his chest and both hands enclosing the space between it; he then went back to his thoughts and musings.

Even in the middle school, which I regrettably attended with my cousin Dudley, being clean was heavily emphasized. The hair should have to moist, meaning before coming to class you had to take a bath. Everyone had to be spotless, flawless and perfect; Dudley and I had to wear uniform of a specific size and color. Every week everyone had to cut his or her finger nails to a specific size. The instructor in my physical training class checked the nails every time we entered his class. Girls were not allowed to wear bracelets, ornaments, or any other form trinkets. The school authorities permitted no nail polish or lipstick on girls. Boys all had to wear ties and full suits. Even the shoes were checked to see if it was spotless and gleaming. Hairstyle depended on the size of the hair, especially for girls. For boy cut or very small hair, a girl had to wear a red hair band; for medium length hair two plaits, for extremely long hair, the girls had to tie two braids. No girls could tie either one ponytail, one braid, nor could keep the hair open. If anyone didn't follow the rules and regulation of dressing conduct seriously, well woe for them. Furthermore, if anyone student was late in reaching the school then that student had to stand outside and was not allowed to join the school assembly for Morning Prayer and mass. The headmistress lectured those students annoyingly, after the Morning assembly, and then wrote a note to their parents about the importance of dressing up properly and other conduct as well; moreover, she wanted the students to sign that letter by their parents and bring it back to her. In short, if you're not clean and dressed properly and follow the proper conduct, then beg for clemency.

One of my favorite subjects was Moral Science. I loved Moral Science because I could sketch and paint; this was only other class where I could draw pictures, besides my painting class. One day, Ms. Matilda Rhubarb, my sixth grade Moral Science teacher, told us that she would give everyone of the students a topic to write about. She would give us three weeks to complete our assignments and at the end of the three weeks we had to read it in the class what we wrote and submit it for a grade. This essay would account for twenty percent of the grade for the final exam. My topic: _Cleanliness._

I don't remember much what I wrote, but nonetheless, I could recollect the opening lines of the introduction as well as some of the lines of the first paragraph; it's as if those jargons and sentences were embossed into my psyche. I wrote something like this:

_Being Clean: What, Why, and How_

_Cleanliness is emphasized to us since we're infants and toddlers by our parents, close relatives, and friends. Being clean means being pure; it signifies innocence, purity, and being untainted. Even the religious manuscripts and passages tell us that we should be clean. God wants us to be clean, spick and span. Why you may ask? The answer is simple and straightforward: Cleanliness is an all-embracing, all-encompassing, principle of sound living._

_Sound living is the base of healthy mind and physical body. Cleanliness helps a person attain this sound living because it is a characteristic that belongs to and derived from our Father in heaven. According to God, a person should be clean in four ways: spiritually, mentally, morally, and physically. To be spiritually clean has to do with a person's expectations and views of eternal, everlasting life. It is the most imperative of the four characteristics of cleanness and purity. Mental has to do with a person's mind being clean, being free from polluted and impure contemplations and deliberations. Moral has to do with a person's ethics and beliefs. Whether he or she is honest and truthful or not. Lastly, the physical of a person had to with his or her body. Holiness and physical purity are intimately associated because the body is our temple… _

I don't remember much after that. But now, all these thoughts and meditation is butchering me, overwhelming and consuming me. I cannot get these feelings and emotions out of my mind. Never have I ever felt so unduly scarred and fixated by these sentiments. Obviously, psyche can be a malicious and spiteful friend, in times of unhappiness and grimace. It is far more pitiless and vicious then a couple of bigoted and xenophobic muggles that were compelled into taking the guardianship and custody for a contaminated freak.

After a while, I came out of my daydream and the visions of castle in the sky.

I'm clean, not dirty.

I scrub harder. I wash harder with an incisive jagged rag. The vapor and the mist rising from the scorching and blistering hot water rolls upward around me, the high temperature making me dizzy and lightheaded. But, like always, I don't feel clean; hence, I begin cleaning again from the pinnacle of my head to down, way down to my feet and toes. The water around me appears somewhat dark red. As I look at my body, it seems that my old abrasions and lesions had opened up again; crimson fluid flowing from it into the water below. Furthermore, some areas of my skin had taken on a pasty appearance. Regardless of this, I go for extra soap.

I chant the same thing all over again, "I'm not unclean." This axiom doesn't help much, but it doesn't hurt me or upset me as well. Therefore, I say it all over again with more force and conviction.

I spent nearly two hours in the bathtub, scrubbing myself, reheating the warm water even more, when it cooled down even slightly, using my wand. But now it's time to conclude my bath and wear the freshly dry-cleaned clothes, left by Dobby. My body doesn't want to get up from the tub, but mind tells me to do so. I do not want to listen, but I have to. I could very well see sun's light and radiance coming into the bathroom. Not to mention, I could hear the murmurings and whisperings coming from the other room, which told me that others were just getting up from their well-deserved sleep.

Bit by bit, I feel fairly clean enough to get out of the sweltering red-hot water. Then I walk slowly towards the shower shelf where Dobby had left me some clean towels and other garments for me to wear. By some strange phenomenon, I finally managed to soak myself waterless and dried up and feel untainted and pure. Since all of the garments are freshly dry-cleaned before I used it, it couldn't have contaminated me, could it? Please someone tell me? Do you all the notice the proof, the attestation concerning I'm going crazy in every way. All these thoughts make me cry, especially the likelihood of losing my mentality. The tears have started falling again from my eyes, but I do not sweep away the tears. Do you know why? Because it helps me, it helps me alleviate and appease my physically abused and battered body. My body looks more like dead carcass rather than a living human body. But the worst torture is yet to come; well, it actually comes now, something that I cannot circumvent.

Here comes my worst frightening entity: the mirror. I couldn't evade the mirror, even if I desired and wanted to. After all mirror imitate and reflects whatever is presented before it, whether it be a human, animal, or an object. The colossal Victorian-era mirror ahead of me reflected my complete body on its exterior surface. It reflected my sullied unclean facial appearance, and hence I started washing my face in the basin nearby. I confess I rinse my face as many times as I wash my hand or take a bath. You see making myself clean is my New Year resolution. Not to mention, a Gryffindor never backs down from a challenge.

After a while, I reached for my pants and cotton suit and put them on, when suddenly someone knocked on the entrance…

**Author Notes: **The story action will take place beginning next chapter. Chapters will no longer deal with Harry's emotions so evocatively and vividly as the last two chapters and this one. Even if it does, it will be light, and will not include detailed illustrations. By the way, thank you for the reviews.

The school dress conduct that was described here was actually my school, in India. It's a private Catholic girls school called _St. Mary's English Girls School_. Moral Science is one of the subjects taught there; it's almost related to the Bible.

Flames will be acknowledged if it comes with **constructive criticism.**


	4. Relieving

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter belongs to J. K. Rowling and Warner Brothers and its associates; it does not belong to me, okay.

**Rating:** M

Flashback and some thoughts is in _Italics_

**Chapter 4: Relieving**

Fear and anxiety gripped me, when I heard the door thump; whoever was on the other side had to do something hasty and quick, otherwise he would not have banged the door with such urgency.

I was so startled that I had almost forgotten about my morose musings for a second. But soon enough, I had collected my wits. I had to act quickly. I couldn't let others see me like this; therefore, I quickly spelled some glamour's on myself to look normal.

Scars and various other blemishes from my face were gone within seconds. When I looked into the mirror again, I looked plain, ordinary Harry Potter. At least as normal and lucid I could be nowadays.

"Open the door now!!!" The person bawled and knocked the door over again with great insistence.

It was Ron.

"Just a minute!" I hollered. "I'm coming; just let me put on some clothes, Ron."

I whimpered when the rough denim clothes came in contact with my bruised skin; it hurt. I almost screamed but soon realized Ron was on the other side, and I'm sure he heard that.

"Open the door, Harry!" I heard Ron say "Please! I need to go the bathroom now!"

Finally, when I saw everything was in perfect condition, I opened the door.

But before I could say "good morning" to him or do any other thing for that he pushed me away from the door; he soon entered the bathroom and closed the door.

_What's the matter with him?_ I wondered._ Could it be because what happened yesterday?_ _I laughed softly as I remembered what Hermione forced him to do. _

Gradually, with a few happy thoughts in my mind, I started towards my dorm where uniform, hairbrush, and other necessities were located.

By the time, I had finished dressing; Ron came out of the bathroom. I saw he took a shower as well.

-------

**Ron's POV:**

Usually, I don't wake up until seven in the morning but for some reason I woke up an hour earlier. I couldn't sleep even if tried to. It's as if a competition had started between my mind and me. It seemed that my mind demanded me to stay awake and do something before I could go to sleep.

I didn't know what my mind wanted me to do? So I started to think back and gather some insight through my half-addled as well as half-asleep mind.

So as I was thinking through my half-asleep mind, suddenly, I felt such strong urge to go the bathroom. It's as if that is why my mind woke me up so abruptly and rudely from my pleasant dreams.

Soon it dawned upon me why I felt the sudden desire to go the bathroom. I needed to relieve myself. Normally, I drink two glasses of water before going for the night; however, yesterday I had to drink almost eight glasses of water because of a stupid dare between Hermione and Angelina, Draco's new girlfriend.

Flashback:

"_You did WHAT?!" I screamed at Hermione._

"_I had just dared Angelina that you can drink at least eight glasses of water before you go to sleep" Hermione implored. _

"_But why did you do this, Herm?" I asserted. "I mean common on. I can't drink eight glasses of water"_

"_But Angelina said that Draco drinks seven glasses of water and she can prove it in front of everybody"_

"_I don't care if Draco can drink one hundred glasses of water, I can't." I told her finally._

"_Well you are going to do this, Ron," Hermione also said with a dogmatic tone that booked no more room for any arguments_._ "I wagered twenty galleons over this dare; not to mention, I don't think you can stand this now, can you" _

_Hermione just showed me her puppy eyes and said, "Please, do this for me, please!!"_

_She knew my weakness; after all she is my girlfriend_.

"_Okay! But I hope this would be last time you would make such stupid dare, Herm. Believe me, I won't be so agreeable the next time around" I said _

"_Fine! Only this time" she said dreamily._

_At eight O' clock at night, in the Great Hall, the challenge occurred. A huge crowd broke out to watch the contest. _

_After a lot of presentation amongst other things, the contest finally started. Draco drank seven and half glasses of water where as Ron drank complete eight glasses._

_When Ron went back to the room, it took everything in him not to vomit water on the floor; he was feeling completely unwell and tired; he decided that, that would be last time he would drink that much amount of water._

_Hermione was feeling so ecstatic at winning the twenty galleons without doing anything but to challenge Angelina about whose boyfriend could drink lots of water._

"_The extent of things a person would do to see his girlfriend happy," mused Ron. Harry, who was standing nearby him, nodded and agreed with him._

As Ron came out of his reverie, he really needed to go the bathroom. He really ran as fast as a rabbit to the bathroom only to find it locked from the inside.

He yelled, begged, almost tried to break the door's hinges with his thumping; but the door held its ground without yielding to him.

He was surprised when he heard Harry's voice from the other side. So when Harry opened the door, he couldn't wait any longer. He simply pushed him aside and ran for the nearest lavatory he could find to relieve himself.

After doing all the unspoken things, he took a bath before heading to his dorm, where he found Harry almost ready to go the Great Hall.

"Sorry mate, for the rush…" I said to him before doing anything.

------

**Author Notes:** Sorry for the delay and the short chapter. I haven't had much time to check the grammar, so there might few grammatical errors in thins chapter. I've few things to say.

1). I've lost interest in writing this story, but don't worry though. I will finish this story.

This story will have a minimum of 10 chapters, but no more than 12 chapters, according to my calculations and the way I'm planning the story.

2) Review please.


	5. The Breakfast Incident

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and its characters belong to J K Rowling, Warner Brothers and its associates; it does not belong to me, okay.

**Rating: **M.

**Warning: **The coming next few chapters will contain situations that are slightly sexual in nature, which intended for adult audience. Read it at your own risk. (I'm, however, not much of an expert in writing SLASH scenes).

Thoughts are in _italics_.

**Important Note: **This is a revised version of the original chapter 5; after reading the original, uploaded chapter 5, I didn't like it very much, so I have changed most of the parts of the story to make it better, while keeping some of the other parts same as the original. Now on with the story…

**Chapter 5: The Breakfast Incident**

"Finally came out of the bathroom, eh, Ron?" Harry said after he was finally done combing his hair."

"You see, Harry…" But before Ron could continue, Harry interrupted

"No need to apologize, Ron."

"B- but… still Harry…"

"Answer me what made you awake so early in the morning. After all, you're a late riser..." interrupted Harry slyly

"What? Why is it so important for you to know when I wake up or not…" Ron stuttered as he said that. He was completely flushed.

"Is it because of what happened last night," he asserted with a stifle and soft laugh.

"Shut up, Harry."

"So it's because of what happened last night," Harry said with a full-blown laughter.

Ron (who was completely red in the face) soon came running after Harry just after he finished saying that. Since their sleeping-bunk were next to each other, with a narrow slightly-long space between their beds, and Harry's bed cabinet was on the left side his bed, and Ron's was on the right side; it provided some distance between both of them.

So when Harry commenced to run, he was ahead of Ron. However, Harry wasn't triumphant in trying to prevent Ron from catching him, even though he was faster and slender than him Unfortunately, for Harry, he lost his balance and fell his bed in an awkward position.

Ron was soon on top of Harry, on his bed, almost trying to suffocate him with his own pillow.

"Stop… please stop…" Harry pleaded to Ron while gasping for air. "I… can't… take… it… anymore, please."

"Then promise, you aren't going to talk about last night," Ron huffed.

"Okay! I promise! Now please _get off_ of me _now_!" Harry said dreadfully.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Ron questioned after looking at Harry's strange jumpy behaviour. "Why are you so afraid, mate?"

"I'm not, Ron." Harry lied.

When Harry saw Ron coming towards him like a frenzy maniac he was scared. He assumed that Ron would actually harm him, just like that man did every week, and therefore his reaction and his voice-tone was laced with panic. It was an automatic reaction; an involuntary reflex that he had developed over the months to protect himself. But he couldn't say all that to Ron; therefore, he tried lying his way out.

"Yes, you are. Don't lie to me. I've seen you past few months, and you aren't yourself," Ron told in a matter-of-fact tone. "Is something the matter, Harry?

"Iie! It's nothing, Ron," I said as normally as possible.

"Are you sure, mate?"

"Yes!!" Harry said in a slightly forceful and reserved manner.

"By the way, why did you scream in the bathroom?" Ron pressured on "Not to mention _why_ were you taking bath so early in the morning, Harry?"

"Uh… um… a r- rat. Rat. There was a rat in the bathroom, you see." Harry sputtered.

However, Ron was skeptical, and he continued, "But still, when did you start to take bath so early?" He was utterly oblivious to Harry's uneasiness.

Luckily, Harry was prevented from answering Ron's question by a sudden growling sound coming from his stomach.

"Let's go and eat breakfast. I'm hungry."

Ron didn't want to press the subject anymore, thinking that Harry would tell him when he felt comfortable. Therefore he agreed with Harry's suggestion to eat something before going to the class.

"Let's go."

After ten minutes, Ron finally decided that he was prepared; both of them got out of their dormitory, and started climbing down the magically moving staircase and advanced towards the Great Hall.

Unfortunately, for Harry, who was so consumed in his thoughts that he didn't realize that something bad was going to happen.

--------

Shock and distress clouded his entire face and mind, even though Harry didn't let it show outside.

_Have I changed so much within past few months? _Harry thought._ If Ron can see my subtle changes, is it possible that the others might have noticed it also. Iie, it's not possible._

_And if it is, then I must be more careful from now onwards. I can't let others find out. _

_I did everything possible, within my reach, to hide my abuse and defilement. I used glamour's and charms to hide violated body, took dreamless potions, which doesn't even work anymore, and placed silencing spells and various other charms _…

Oof! Ouch! And various others noises of distress and pain suddenly echoed around him.

"Huh!"

"Can't you look where you're going, Potter?" A cold voice said.

As Harry was walking, he didn't see another boy coming out of the Great Hall and he collapsed into him.

"I'm sorry; I didn't see you…" As Harry raised his face to get a better look at the person he knocked, his face became completely pale.

It was him. Michael McDreamy.

Michael McDreamy, a seventh year Ravenclaw, always hated me with a passion for some reason. I don't know if I ever wronged him in my life or not, but he really enjoys to watch me suffer Michael and Snape are like two peas in a pod, especially, when it comes to me. They both like to insult and torment me whenever feasible, as well as to make my life as miserable as possible.

But now I'm afraid of Michael for another reason. He knows my _secret_ as well. He found out about my secret by chance; and now he blackmails me with it. In certain ways, Michael is exactly like a cunning, crafty Slytherin. Using a private, disturbing knowledge of others for his own benefit.

"What are you? Blind?"

"Michael, I'm really sorry. Are you okay?"

"I don't need your pity, Potter." Michael spat venomously and then shoved Harry backwards forcefully. Harry fell about three feet back on the floor, and his head smacked with the nearby stele.

"Hey, Michael, what's up with you? Harry apologized and this is how you show thanks." Ron retorted spitefully.

A crowd began to form on the doorway, and teachers, who were sitting on the high teacher's table, looked uncomfortable as the student chanted, "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

A fight broke out between them; Draco, Neville, and Hermione rushed in the middle to prevent the showdown from going any further. Both Professors Flitwick and McGonagall came outside the door with angry expressions on their faces.

"Potter, are you alright?" both Professors McGonagall and Flitwick inquired.

"Yes, Professor McGonagall."

"Michael, how could you do this? Apologize to Harry right now. Forty points from Ravenclaw and detention, for your disobedient conduct." Professor Flitwick said sternly.

"Moreover, the students who incited the fight-riot will have twenty points taken from their houses. Any other punishments will be deemed by the Professors of their respective houses." McGonagall declared in an incensed, fuming tone.

"We'll meet later, Potter. You know where" Michael whispered in Harry's ear. But because of the crowd, no one noticed Michael's warning.

"Weasley, take Potter to Madam Pomfrey for a check up" Professor McGonagall stated and then went on her way to the first-year transfiguration class.

----------

Wait for me, Ron," Hermione hollered. She quickly met up with Ron and Harry, and they all went to the Hospital Wing, where they met up with Madam Pomfrey.

"Let me have a look at you, Harry," Madam Pomfrey repeated as she tried to check his head for any signs of concussion and anything broken.

"I'm alright, Madam Pomfrey," Harry insisted.

"Fine! But if you feel unwell or hurt, come to me immediately, alright?"

"Okay." Harry said with a dejected voice as Hermione and Ron stood up. He thanked that his charms and glamour prevented Madam Pomfrey to discerning Harry's actual condition.

---------

"Harry!" a male voice shouted.

"Are you here on earth or not?" This time a feminine bawled.

"Huh? What happened?" Harry looked into the faces of his two accompanying friends.

"Where were you, Harry? We were calling your name for such a long time." Hermione said admonishing-ly.

"It's no wonder that you bumped into Michael. If you walk with your head in the clouds, then next time you might collide with Snape, mate. And that would not be a very nice picture to look at..." Ron said while conceiving mentally a picture of a chibi looking Harry bumping into a chibi looking Professor Snape, with a scowl on his face. Ron could help but to chuckle at the image

"You've become distant lately, Harry. Is something the matter?" Hermione demanded.

"I just need some peace and quiet, please guys" Harry pleaded.

"Fine!" Both of them said at the same time, although they looked somewhat troubled.

"But you should tell us what's bothering you soon, Harry" Ron told and Hermione agreed with him.

As Harry, Hermione, and Ron continued walking along towards the Great Hall, Harry had a distant look on his face.

"_We'll meet later, Potter. You know where?"_ Michael's threat loomed over his head.

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**Author Notes: **none for now.

Review please.


	6. Painful Lessons Part I

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and its characters belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers and its associates; it does not belong to me, okay.

**Rating:** M.

Thoughts and important word titles are in _italics._

**Warning: **This chapter contains situation that is slightly sexual in nature. There is also some violence towards the end. Please read it at your own risk.

**Important Notice:** Dear readers, with the exception for the beginning parts (slightly), I went back and completely re-did chapter 5. It's nothing like the original one. Please go read that chapter. Moreover, I'm using some of the original middle and ending parts of chapter 5 for this one, as it suited much better for this chapter. Sorry for the inconvenience

**Chapter 6: Painful Lessons Part I**

It took around ten minutes to twelve minutes for Harry, Ron, and Hermione to navigate back to the Great Hall.

"It's almost time for my Arithmancy class," Hermione said. "I'll see you both in the Charms class, okay."

"Okay." Harry and Ron said at the same time.

"Talk about early class plans," Ron said, as they both walked inside the Great Hall. "Lucky for us, our class doesn't begin until eight-thirty."

A pair of cold venomous eyes, from the teacher's high table, watched Harry as he entered the Great Hall with Ron. Those eyes still continued look at Harry, without any interference, as he sat alongside Ron.

"Right now, I just want to eat something. I'm seriously in need of some calories to fill my stomach." Ron persisted as his stomach growled.

"What?"

"I said 'I was hungry.'" Ron repeated.

"No. I mean about the 'calories?'" Harry said.

"Oh, about that. Hermione told me something about it." Ron told while he was busy with biting down a big piece of bread-loaf, with mixed fruit jelly, and drinking milk at the same time; he had also taken three bacon pieces, one soft boiled egg, two vanilla covered cup cakes, few pastries, and an apple.

"For your sake, I hope she mentioned the fact that too much calories is bad for your health."

"But you aren't eating anything, buddy." Ron said; he noticed that Harry took only meager amounts of scrambled eggs, one toast with grape jelly, and a half glass of milk. "You didn't even take corn-flakes mixed with fruits, and it's your favourite."

"Not really hungry, after all."

"'Not really hungry,' Harry. Then why is your stomach rumbling?" Ron asked. Then he began to shove more food in Harry's plate, while Harry looked as if he wanted to throw up.

"Stop it! Ron. I cannot eat this much."

"Just eat it. It's not too much…" however, before Ron could finish completing his speech, Dean called Ron to talk about Potions essay homework, on_ "The Importance of Medicinal Herbs in Potion Making,"_ which was due today at twelve O' clock in the afternoon. While they were both were busy talking with each other, Harry took out a rather large boy's handkerchief and placed it on his knees; when he made sure that no one was watching him, (as he felt that someone was peeping on him) he dumped the entire food contents into it, leaving only some of the food in the platter. Then Harry tightened a knot on the handkerchief and chanted a disillusionment charm to make the handkerchief, filled with food, look like an unwanted creased ink-marked paper, which any ordinary student would throw into a dustbin.

The man sitting at the High Teacher's Table watched the entire thing with his own unfeeling reddish-brown chestnut coloured eyes. A malicious grimace began to embellish his features as he saw what Harry did. _So my dear, are you planning on killing yourself by not eating any food. I can't let that happen; you're too good and too beautiful_ _to die, my sweetheart. It seems I'll have to keep an eye on you, dearest._

"Hey, when did finish eating, mate?"

"Just few minutes ago," Harry stated, while fiddling with the leftovers with his fork and knife. "We should go; it's almost time for our Divination class. I don't want Professor Trelawney to think that her prediction about my demise is true, just because I'm a little late."

"I think she is absolutely out of her mind. Since the start of the year, heck every year, she has been predicting your death in one way or the other," uttered Ron, who hastily finished his breakfast, and stood up to gather his books and other things.

Harry didn't reply anything to the comment; instead some anguishing thoughts haunted his mind. _Did she foresee what would happen to me since even before the year started, otherwise why she would say that I would have a painful and a difficult year? It's unsurprising that she predicts my death and doom every year, but still..._

Harry abruptly broke his chain of thoughts, so that he could listen to what Ron was busy talking about as well as to not to appear inattentive. His friends often questioned about his silent musings and preoccupation, while Draco generally tried to tick him off by either creating a scene or by saying something stupid and inane. Oftentimes, he did both.

"I hope that we don't meet Malfoy right now or …" Ron started to say, but before he could finish his sentence his eyes widened.

_Speak of the devil_ Harry finished the thought out loud.

Draco Malfoy, the said person, walked in the Great Hall, with a huge sarcastic grin adorning his facial countenance. His eyes were filled with an unusual friskiness;the haughty demeanor and attitude, Draco adopted when coming towards them, allowed Ron to discern that _someone_ was about receive a huge pain in the body, if not a big bonk on the head.

"So, Potter, you can't even go anywhere without making a big spectacle of yourself, can you?" Draco said shrewdly.

"What do you mean?" Harry questioned.

"What do I mean? I mean that you always know how to draw attention to yourself. Anything you do in the slightest, people will notice you.

"For example, in the second year, both you and Ron used a flying Ford Angelina to come to school, not to mention to let the entire school know that you're a parselmouth. In the third year, you fainted at the Hogwarts Express just when the train got pulled over by the Dementors. In the fourth year the Triwizard Tournament… should I go on, Harry?"

Even though Harry looked calm and composed, inside he was seething. Draco always knew how to tick him off.

"So my question now, is it a coincidence that you crashed into Michael the same time he was coming out?" Draco asked in a sickeningly sweet tone

"NO. I did not bump into him intentionally. My mind was actually pre-occupied…"

"_Preoccupied_… huh…" Draco had an evil gleam in his eyes. "About what, my dear? Is it Tom?"

"What? No!!! Absolutely not!!"

"So you are still daydreaming about him, aren't you, Harry?" He didn't pay any attention to what Harry was saying; instead Draco came in close proximity towards Harry and started to whisper, "I think you are busy dreaming about the unspeakable things that Tom and you'd do after graduating from Hogwarts."

Draco started to move far too close for Harry's comfort and began to flutter his tongue sensually at the top of Harry's ears.

"Draco Malfoy!!!!"

"How idly Tom would relieve you off your clothing's and then how he would deliberately touch you excruciatingly slowly just to see you squirm to his strokes and caress. Bit by bit Tom would taste you by flickering his tongue all over your body; he would listen to your every panting, moaning, whining just before taking you completely in his mouth. You'll beg, plead, and appeal to him to take you wholly by burying himself inside of you; and when he does, you'd scream his name "Tom! Tom!" over and over again, before pleasure and gratification overrides you of all of your senses and awareness, Harry. Just imagine all that…" Draco continued as if he hadn't heard Harry's protestations before.

"Shut up, Draco!!" screamed Harry. His face was completely flushed after what Draco said.

"Ha. Finally got you, didn't I?" Draco said with a sneer garnishing his appearance. "Your expression was priceless, Harry! Just priceless!!"

"_Waddiwasi! Densaugeo! Engorgio!" _

A sharp clang sound passed through the Great Hall and some painful groans were heard; however, no one minded, as there were neither any teachers left (except one), nor even students, except for a notably few.

--------

However, the person sitting in the extreme left corner of the Great Hall, who was keeping an eye on Harry, wasn't quite pleased after seeing the entire scene being played. Even though the others might not have noticed Harry and Draco's seduction incident, since there were hardly any students left, he did. He was very angry and livid, although the said person looked quite unconcerned and aloof on the exterior.

He snarled as his mind constantly replayed the entire episode between Draco and Harry repeatedly.

_How dare he touch what is mine?_ The man fumed._ Harry belongs to me and only me, and not anyone else. I'll teach Malfoy a lesson for trying to mess with me. After all I've a class with him today_…

The man's thoughts were abruptly shifted towards Harry, after he finished devising how to make Malfoy's life horrible and torturous for the day. He watched as Harry stood up to depart with Ron. He felt completely disgusted at the way Ron ate his breakfast.

_Oh my darling, Harry, I'm going to teach you a lesson if you even try to betray me in the slightest. Do you understand, my pet?_ An evil and sinister sneer began to form on the brim of his lips, whose eyes didn't waver from Harry, even as he prepared to leave the Great Hall and go for his first class.

_After all, you've a meeting with me this week, my dear? Oh, we're going to have so much fun_…

--------

After getting out of the Great Hall, both of them had started to run towards the top of the North Tower. Dashing through the tightly veering stairs and passing through several moving animated paintings, they had finally reached a spherical trapdoor with a brass engraving on it.

After huffing and wheezing for some time, they had finally entered the classroom, which looked like a combination between a person's old attic and a bygone and belated teashop.

"Welcome, my dears," Sibyll Trelawney's faraway, airy voice said from behind them. "You're just in time for the class to begin."

"Sorry, Professor… for being late…"

"Just take your seats, my dears," asserted Professor Trelawney before beginning her class. "I so happy to see all of you; I hope that the divination lessons you're taking is helping you all to enjoy good health and fortune, although I can perceive powerful negative vibes coming from one of you. However, I won't name the person. With that lets begin our lesson: Numerology"

"Who can say what numerology is?"

A hand rose up in front of Ron. "Yes, my dear" said the Professor turning her eyes towards Parvati Patil.

"It's the study of numbers and how it affects our fates."

"Correct." With saying that Professor began to explain the history of Numerology: its nature, pros and cons, and its uses and how it can determine human luck and outcome.

After finishing her lecture about Numerology, she gave the class homework on _how numbers affected your life till now_ and then dismissed the class for the next period.

---------

"Next is charms. Lets go mate," Ron said, while going down the stairs. Harry was tagging behind. "By the way, do you think Draco was able to remove the hexes you sent at him?"

There was no reply; Ron turned around to see that Harry had vanished into thin air. "Harry? Where are you, mate?" Ron was troubled

---------

On the other side of the stairs, across the Divination classroom, in an abandoned classroom building:

Two students were meeting in secret, although the said gathering wasn't a nice one.

"Potter. You should know your place, you slut. You shouldn't have done what you did…"

"It was an accident; I didn't mean to knock into you, Michael" Harry insisted again. "Michael… I'm really sorry…look…"

"Because of you, not only I lost house points, but I also got detention. I, Michael, who never got any detention or punishment for the last six years at Hogwarts, was forced to bear this humiliation in front the entire student body and teachers…"

"I apologize…"

"Shut up!" Michael yelled. "Didn't your mother train you not to interrupt a person before he completes his thoughts and sentences. _Oh! I'm so sorry_. I didn't realize that your _mudblood_ mother is dead, and so is your father. Poor little orphan, no one has ever taught him any courtesy…"

"Be quiet, Michael. _Do not ever _speak anything bad about my parents," Harry said quietly.

"Is that a threat? What are you going to do? Complain to your teachers! Punch me! Kick me! Kill me!" Venom and malice oozed with every word he pronounced; and with each words, Michael punched and kicked Harry any place he got, leaving Harry only to cry and whimper in pain. "You should realize by now, Harry, that I'm the one holding all the _ammunitions._"

"Stop! Please!" Harry cried. "Stop hitting me!"

But the blows and punches kept on coming. "If I tell your friends about the affair you're having with that _teacher,_ believe me I'll be the least of your problems." scoffed Michael, giving the last kick at his stomach. With a cold laugh, Michael left a bloodied Harry on the floor to fend for himself all alone…

**Authors Notes:** Quite a long chapter isn't it. Hope you love it. I plan to finish this story by 31st January, 2007, since only four or five chapters are left; hence, updates will be quite soon. I've divided this part into two chapters, as it's going to be quite long.

By the way, I didn't know anything about Numerology, except for its definition. (Not to mention, the Internet connection I've is very slow to start up, hence I didn't want to search it in the web) Hence, that's why that part is so short. Sorry.

**Preview of the next chapter:** Snape torturing Harry, finally get to meet the 'evil teacher' tormenting Harry.

MERRY CHRISTMAS! And a HAPPY NEW YEAR.

Review please.


	7. Painful Lessons Part II

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and its wonderful characters belong to J. K. Rowling, Warner Brothers and its associates. It does not belong to me, okay.

Flashback, thoughts, and emphasized words --_italics_.

**Chapter 7: Painful Lessons Part II**

"I can't take this anymore. Death is much more comforting than this." A small, but quiet, moan was heard coming from the classroom. _Just because I couldn't control myself, this whole affair began; and now I cannot tell anyone._ _Even if try saying what is happening with me, then they will all hate me. _

_Humans are right in their assumption, when they say 'be careful what you wish for,' because you may just get the wish; however, you may not like the catch that could come along with the wish. My only fault was that I had never realized that my simple crush could come to destroy my life, take away all of my life's peace and happiness, and leaving me with nothing, but sadness and suffering. _

Harry continued sobbing silently; tears falling from his eyes like river torrents, never ceasing, not even for a single minute. The walls, the chairs and benches, and all the non-living objects in the classroom were the only spectators as to what transpired in the room.

It had taken sometime for Harry to get a hold of his emotions and feelings; when he finally tried to hoist himself up, using the walls as a prop, he couldn't. His legs wouldn't support his body weight, nor it could keep itself steady for long. Harry's legs swayed, became wobbly and precarious as he tried to walk. Abruptly, a crashing resonance came from the vacant classroom

WHAM. THUD.

"Aah!" Harry's anguished voice cried. "Oh, God! ... It just hurts so much!" He slipped on the classroom parterre, just in front of the door. His entire body was aching and throbbing from the beatings and abuse he recieved from Michael. Harry whimpered as he tried to get up and sit onto the cold concrete floor.

_How am I supposed to get to my class, _Harry thought._I feel so weak. _"I don't think I can be present at Professor Flitwick's Charms class." Today, their instructor, Flitwick was going to teach them how perform _Specialis Revelio_ charm. Professor Flitwick was also going to teach them the basics of Unbreakable Vow. Harry couldn't miss today's lesson, even if wanted to.

He had missed three days in Charms class, and often fallen asleep on the desk, last few due to his 'sickness.' Professor Flitwick apprised him (Harry) if he either missed class once more, or slept on the desk, then not only he would deduct some points of the Gryffindor House and give him detention, but his grades will be in serious trouble. Harry recalled the scene very well.

"_Welcome to class, my students." Flitwick said in a buoyant and cheerful tone. "Hopefully you all did the homework I gave you last week on the Obliteration Charm." The entire class slowly started to pass the homework scrolls towards Professor Flitwick, who looked quite pleased that everyone had done their homework. _

"_I also hope no one has forgotten to do it." He said that while looking directly at Harry. who had taken out his roll of parchment as well as passed it Hermione, who was sitting in front of him. Hermione passed it Draco, and so on before the parchment finally rested on Flitwick's short hands. Harry had forgotten to do the previous Charm's homework, and Professor Flitwick very leniently gave him two extra days to finish his assignment and submit it to him, which he did. _

"_Before we start today's lesson and begin practicing the Oblitieration charm, I have an announcement to give to you all. We're going to have a small exam in four weeks."_

_The entire class groaned._

"_Professor Flitwick..." said Hermione, with strident, yet knowledgeable timbre, "... How many points is the test worth?"_

"_There is going to two parts to the exam: the practical part and the theory part. You need to get 'excellent' or better to pass the practical part of the test; for the theory part, there is going to be fifty questions. You need to get eighty or better to pass the theory portion."_

"_What will the exam consist of?" Tom's inquired in a smooth and silky voice?_

"_Theory will include lessons till the Unbreakable Vow. The examination will consists of short answers, true or false, and fill in the blanks type questions" Flitwick answered. _

_Slowly, the questions died down, Flitwick commenced the practicing of Obliteration charm, and began ask several questions regarding it, most of which were answered by Tom and Hermione. Soon it was twelve, and it was time to go Professor Snape's potion class._

"_Don't forget you homework on Specialis Revelio Charm. Moreover, do read on the Unbreakable Charm for the next class." Gradually, the class started to filter out of the class. Before Harry could leave the room, Flitwick called him out quietly._

"_Mr. Potter, is there any time you would be available today or tomorrow? I have some things to discuss with you?" _

"_Well, I've some free time at four-thirty, today."_

"_Well, Mr. Potter, come to my office then, where we can talk without any disruption." Professor Flitwick replied somberly._

_At four thirty..._

_A knock was heard in a large glossy mahogany embroderied door, which opened after Harry mumbled the password (Gemini Pulsar) and then requested "May I come in, Professor?" _

"_Yes, come in, Mr. Potter" Professor Flitwick's usually cheery overtones were laced with misgiving and concern. "Please., have a sit."_

_After Harry took a sit, and looked at Professor Flitwick questioningly._

"_Mr. Potter," Professor Fliwick said gravely, "I'm concerned about your grades. I don't think you're living up to your potential. Frankly, I'm quite perturbed if you can even pass this year."_

_Harry's eyes widened at the professor's dire statement. "But , professor, I'm trying my best, like always."_

"_I'm going to be frank with you, Mr. Potter," Professor Flitwick declared, "are you experiencing any stress or tension in your life. I want you to understand that prodding into your personal life isn't my intent here. But still I need to ask you. Is there something going on that has been preoccupying your mind." He looked at Harry seriously._

"_No, Professor," Harry said, trying to look as frank as possible. "There's nothing. I think the its coming exams. Studying so much have frazzled my nerves." (It wasn't exactly a lie though; there had been times when he studied at night, especially, since the slumber wouldn't consume him due to the nightmares)._

_Professor Flitwick sighed, before responding. "Harry, please take some rest and relaxation. If you're over-expanding yourself due to studies, please take a break. Constantly studying is not good for your health or your mind. Even you yourself need a break from studying. Your grades says as much."_

"_But , Professor, I'm taking breaks," Harry interjected. "I'm trying my hardest, and I don't know why my grades are slipping in this class."_

"_Mr. Potter, there might be one or two ways to salvage your grades even now. What I need to know if you can follow some of the rules till the end of the year." Professor Flitwick declared, and looked at Harry expectantly before. progressing, "if you come to class on time participate in class discussions, I think it might help you in terms of grade. Don't take anymore absences because it will only harm your grade. More importantly, don't take a nap in the class as well, otherwise I'll have to give detention along with taking house points. So tell me , can you do these. "_

"_I will try to follow these, then," Harry replied. With saying a pleasant 'good evening' Harry stood up from sanguine velvety chair, and prepared to leave the office room._

End flashback.

"But still…" when Harry abruptly put his hands into the left pocket of his shirt under his black cape and took out a small brown coloured bottle; the phial had some clear liquid within it, which Harry drank it in a single gulp. "… This might help me a bit."

After saying that, he tediously gathered himself up and using the classroom wall as a crutch, he tried walking towards the entrance and towards the Charms class.

X X X X

Wraith-like flashback scene of Harry and Draco in the Great Hall was envisioned in the background of the silhouette's mind. "I will slaughter him! Annihilate him from this world!" He screamed with such fury and passion as if someone has raped and defiled his lover's body before brutally killing her.

"How dare he touch what belongs to me!?" McNight yelled. "He should be taught a nice lesson about not to touch others property."

The boots clashed against green granite creating deep resounding clic-clack-thuds as the figure paced around in the darkness. The room was completely hot and humid. No breeze passed through the room due to the closed windows and heavy coal black portiere. A milieu of malfeasance and diablerie filled the mysterious large room. Any sane person (or wizard) would have thought evil and debauched dwelled within the abode.

"He is just like the other Malfoys." McNight commented to himself. "Believes that the entire world belongs to them. Well, Malfoy, it seems I will have to teach you a lesson, don't I?" He walked slowly, steadily, his chestnut-brown eyes showing nothing but pure malevolence.

"I won't spare you today, Malfoy! I won't! I don't care how much influence you father has over the ministry," McNight uttered with unfeeling cold tones. "No one touches Harry, but me! After all, he is mine. Mine to touch! Mine to feel! Mine alone!!!"

As he raged on, sputtering hateful, cursing words for Malfoy, and possessive words (for _his_ Harry) from his thick almost carmine venomous lips, the ambience around him grew more dark and foreboding. The conflagration in the hearth began to sear with great intensity and raised several meters high in the room. The windows burst open with split ear-screeching sounds, the lambrequins rippled around spryly. The objects in the room vibrated with great dynamism, before it all came to a stop. But the atmosphere of dread and terror was still there.

"You're mine, Harry. Mine alone!"

XXXX

"Today, we're going to make Felix Felicis potion." Snape, wearing traditional black robes with cape billowing around, ordered. "But before we get started, who tell me what is purpose of this potion?"

Two hands rose up. Severus inwardly groaned. _Why does it always have to be those to?_

"Anyone other than those two?" Snape queried. The entire class was silent. The sounds of bird chirping, insects buzzing could be heard clearly. Professor Snape looked all around his classroom only to find some students looking over their study notes, whilst others tried to make themselves as miniscule as possible. And Harry was one of those that fell in the latter.

_Dear Mr. Potter is trying to hide, isn't he?_ Severus Snape mused somewhat gleefully._ Maybe I could have some enjoyment at the expense of Potter._ An barely baneful derisive grin delineated on the face of the austere Potions master.

"Mr. Potter..." Snape asserted, "... perhaps, you could tell me what is the use of Felix Felicis?"

Everyone held his or her breath; after all, they all knew that Harry wasn't that bright when it came to Potions. And Professor Snape had a personal grudge against Harry.

"It makes its user lucky..." Harry spoke, almost inaudibly.

"I see, you've done your homework, Mr. Potter..." Professor Snape added derisively.

"Why shouldn't Felix Felicis be used frequently?" Snape questioned. "Mr. Potter?"

"Umm..." was all that Harry replied. Harry cursed himself; he hadn't read that far into the Felix Felicis potion. All he knew was that the concotion made its drinker lucky and prosperous.

"It seems I was wrong..." Professor Snape drawled out his speech. "... Potter, don't you know why the potions is not used much?"

The entire room was silent.

"Excessive quantites can cause foolhardiness, and dangerous overconfidence. Furthermore, it also affects the user's ability to know what is physically done by them and what was not." Harry surmised

Severus seethed silently. _That Potter brat intends to show me_ _off in my class. I'll teach him a lesson that he'll never forget. _With that thought in mind began to scribble the igredients needed to brew the Felix Felicis (which the students began to mimic effectively).

"You'll be brewing the potion in pairs," Professor Snape dictated, "and I will see around as who makes mistakes and who don't." Snape took several points off from several students. As he came around the corner where Harry Neville were, Professor Snape stood for sometime; he critically scrutinized the potion for the slightest error. Harry was on the table cutting the monkswood roots. Unfortunately for them, he found a small error.

"Are you trying to make a bad luck potion, Longbottom!" Professor Snape snarled.

Neville involuntarily trembled. "No! Professor." He answered timidly.

"Then why is the potion red color. Longbottom" Snape berated the already terrified boy.

"Mmm." whispered Neville, and looked at the floor, instead of the cold beady black eyes.

"Mr. Potter," Snape's in his hate-laced voice continued, "Are you trying to show off? Thinking that you don't have to help someone less brilliant than you."

Harry just stared at him. _Replying to him or not replying to him wouldn't help -- in either way._ Harry thought wretchedly.

"Mr. Potter," Snape spitefully continued, "Did you intentionally wanted to make an inferior potion? Or did you believe that Longbottom would make the potion perfectly without any help?"

By now everyone was looking at the pair. Some felt sorry and regret, whilst few others were busy correcting their own concoction.

"Hundred points from Gryffindor," Snape spoke scathingly. "Detention for five days for both Mr. Potter and Longbottom." With that said, Snape went back to looking other students Potions and rebuking if he found the slightest errors.

Harry wanted to die. Didn't his life was complicated enough, now that he had to go to even more point losses and detentions. But what he didn't realize that worst was yet to come...

XXXXX


	8. Qustionable Behaviours

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and its characters belong to J. K. Rowling and Warner Brothers and its associates. It does not belong to me.

**Warning:** Extreme graphic violence towards the end.

-/-

**Chapter 8: Questionable Behaviours**

After the disastrous Potions class, and somewhat strained and tensed Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Harry lay up quietly by himself, in his red-poster berth (after taking his dinner, of course). His pulled up his yellow-red bedspread up to his waist. He lay thinking about how worse his life would get. He was apprehensive, for two good reasons. First, he realized the way acted around his friends, after the end of the Potions class, would raise red flags in his friend's mind, especially after the way he behaved. Second, he had a visit _that person_ tomorrow. McNight had told him specifically to come to his personal chambers, after the end of the class.

_What am I going to do?_ _ When is all this going to end? _ _Or it isn't going to end?_ Those thoughts engrossed his already turmoiled mind. Tears began to fall from his eyes once more.

Faintly, he could hear talking sounds becoming noisy and it coming towards his dorm; he knew clearly, who they were just from hearing the voices. He pretended to be asleep, when he heard the golden doorknob making a click sound.

8888

His friends were slightly perplexed at his strange silent behavior since the end of the Potions class. They could not decipher what was wrong with him. _Why was he so placid and apathetic? Why wouldn't he talk to anyone, if he had any problem They were all his friends, were they not?_ All these thoughts ran through Ron, Hermione, and Neville's mind.

"Ron, is he asleep?" Hermione asked.

"It seems so."

"I just don't understand. What's was the matter with him?" Hermione questioned softly, but somewhat hysterically. "Why was he behaving so odd after the Potions class, Ron?" Tears threatened to come out.

"Do you think it's because of Professor Snape. I mean he resented on Harry since the first grade." Neville reasoned. "Maybe he has finally succeeded in degrading Harry."

"No!" Ron exclaimed. "Never! It's not possible. All these years, whenever Professor Snape or any other teachers chided Harry, he never acted so quiet and unruffled, like he was doing today."

"Then what is wrong with him? I had never seen a face so full of pain and void," Hermione cried. They just didn't want to reminsce those moments when Harry acted peculiarly. Hermione was somewhat apprehensive; she hadn't ever seen Harry acting the way he did.

To simply to sum in one word: broken.

_The vibrant emotions that he exhibited was completely gone; pain, emptiness and hollowness were the only things that appeared on his visage. it looked Harry as if he became a completely differet person -- a person with no emotions. A person who was physically dead, yet still alive. More importantly, he looked broken and shattered. It was as if Harry was in his own world of trepidation and dejection. His friends bedlam and shouting, did nothing to shook him out of his world of sorrow. Already dead from the inside, but still living-- that would best best describe Harry. He was unruffled to Ron's pleading of "It doesn't matter, mate." or Hermione's soothing words. _

_Even Neville's sorrowfully, chanting "I'm so sorry. It's all my fault. Professor Snape shouldn't have done or said that to you," didn't help the matter._

_However, that painful aspect didn't disappear as soon as it appeared. It had taken some time, for it go. When painful expression did go, Harry found himself with questionable and disturbed looks on his friends face._

"For sometime, Harry has been acting peculiarly, I know," Ron declared. "Didn't you see how out-of the-world he becomes nowadays. It's as if he lives in his own world. Because of it he falls into so much more trouble than usual."

"He is just so oblivious of his surroundings. Did you see how unawarely he bumped into Michael, today." Hermione added.

"Not only that," Ron added, "He also remains so much more quiet, talks only when he needs to, rarely spends time with us, or even goes to Hogsmeade anymore."

Hermione shook her head at Harry's strange behaviour.

"I think Michael knows something..." Neville added softly. Two heads turned sharply towards him.

"What do you mean?" Both of them asked in unison.

"Well," Neville stammered, "I-I d-don't know exactly what. B-but when you were all busy trying to stop the riot this morning, I saw that Micheal whispering something into Harry's ears." Neville looked both Hermione and Ron.

Their emotiional looks urged him to continue. "Whatever he said, shocked and startled Harry. That was all I saw." Neville looked somewhat guiltly for not knowing more.

"Do you think he might know?" Hermione beseeched Ron. "Harry used to be so full of life, but now look at him. He looks so depressed."

"I think we'll have to interrogate him soon," Ron said determinedly. "We all want to know what's the matter with him and Harry.And it's about time to find out?"

Hermine cried in Ron's chest, while Neville continued look at the pretended peaceful-sleeping boy sorrowfully.

-/-

"Did you see Draco?" Pansy asked the Slytherin students in the common room.

"No." or "I haven't seen Malfoy." Those were only comments Pansy got in reply. She was getting rather frustrated and worried with no one knowing about Draco's whereabouts.

"Are you missing your precious Draco, Penny?" Daphne Greengrass, the seventh year Slytherin, whispered slyly. She wore a cotton coal black pajamas with yellow short sleeve tops, with glossy pink floral designs on it.

Daphne and her friends did nothing better other than to covertly snicker behind her back whenever they had seen her with Draco They deliberated that Pansy wanted to get Draco back, after he dumped her for Blaise, in the last summer vacation. She paid no attention to them; after all, it did no better to frantically work up herself just because of what others thought.

_So, what Draco dumped me for her? I know that we're never meant for each other.We were only together for our parents sake, not for ours. _Pansy contemplated mentally trying to convince herself. _Our relationship was always platonic, not romantic, especially not for Draco. I could see it in his eyes. He saw me just as a friend, and nothing more. _

Pansy shook her head from her depressing pensive thoughts. She needed to find Draco. She wanted to see him; it was urgent. Her father had sent them an important letter. Pansy gave a sigh as she finally sat on one of the green empty sofa of the common room. She remembered Draco said that he would be late. Pansy finally gave one more tired sigh; she didn't like waiting up for long, especially not when she was feeling sleepy.

_Perhaps tomorrow then._ She mused.

8888

Stong winds picked up. Animals and birds had taken shelter under the heavy trees, and any place they could get, before the rainfall occured. Thunder and lightning enveloped the entire firmament. Heavy dark cloud covered the entire night sky, and the dazzingly tiny stars concealed behind the clouds.

Over the eastern tower of Hogwarts, from where the mysterious yet dangerous Forbidden Forest could be seen, a painful scream could be heard. A second later, the sound of window pane breaking could be heard. as well.

"Stop it!" A hoarse voice cried. "Why are doing this!? Tell me! Please!"

"Do you not remember what you did, Malfoy?" McNight replied in a voice that radiated anger. Waves of dark milieu scattered around the room "_Crucio_!"

Another painful scream errupted as Draco writhed on the cold granite floor. Pain, dread, and agony was the only thing discernible.

"Remember now!" McNight said in a chilly voice.

"Remember what?!" Draco cried back. "Why are you hurting me, P-Professor?"

"So you don't remember, my dear, Draco. Then I will make you remember, even if it takes me the entire night, dear! I do hope this does the trick." McNight purred in a sing-song tone. "Sectumsempra!"

Another agonizing yell came from Draco, as blood spilled on the already liquid-crimson scattered floor.

"Did you think, Malfoy, you wouldn't go unscathed after what you did!?" McNight screamed. The sound of another glass pane breaking was heard. "Especially after trying to seduce _my_ Harry!"

"What!!" Even in this agonizing situation, shock was discernable in his face. "What are you trying to say?!

The boy whimpered, as McNight caught him by his golden hair, and pulled Draco's head backwards. "Yes! Malfoy! Harry is mine! And only mine!"

"Y-You're wrong!" Draco huffed, as his nose and lips bleed. "H-He l-lov-loves Tom-m!" Draco groaned as a punch landed on his face.

"Harry is mine! He is mine to touch! I know him much better than you or Tom! Do you understand!" NcNight yelled in a deranged manner. "I'll kill anyone who tries to come between my Harry and me?!"

Outside lightning and thunder rumbled, and drops of large water began to fall on the land and the forest. The rain had began. Gloomy and murky feeling spread all around the area.

"I have known Harry for about a year. After all, he was the one who approached me. He liked me. He liked me far more than the half-breed Tom. Do you not understand that?" McNight said smoothly.

"N-no. He doesn't." Draco replied. The red-black swollen eyes fluttered, trying to close the grey eyes and lessen the pain; but it wasn't meant to be as another blow landed in.

"Let me tell you something, Malfoy, no one knows Harry more than me.. I know his likes and dislikes. An if you try to be differ than..." McNight stopped abruptly as began to pace around the dark room. Glowing embers from burned timbers, in the grate, was the only source of light in the cimmerian room.

Draco winced as he tried to move around. He panted and gasped for every ounce of breath he took. He looked apprehended as McNight's cold stark raving chestnut brown eyes once more fell on him.

A sharp silver knife appeared out of nowhere into McNight's pale white hands. He looked at his quarry with a demented grin.

"Bad things happen to those differ with me," He purred in a gentle voice. "Don't think anyone will come to your rescue. I have silencing spells placed all around the room. So even if you scream loudly, no one will hear you."

McNight raised the silver knife, and thrust it deeply through his back, ripping the black cloak to shreds. Pools of blood red oozed out through the gash, as Draco yelled in pain.

"Stop it, please!"

"Only when I feel like it." McNight declared coldly, as he continued torturing his prey.

"You see, I don't get enough chances to indulge in fun and games." McNight continued, in an eerily voice.. "So, whenever golden oppurtinuity falls in my hands, I make sure that I enjoy it _properly_."

McNight now ran the blade through Draco's chest, who now whimpered on the floor; tears long dried since the beginning.

"S-stop it!" The haggard voice groaned

"I haven't finshed my fun yet, my dear." He said in a sickly-sweet voice. "I still have some tricks left. So don't die on me."

He gently kept the crimson dagger nearby him, and accioed a grey container towards him. As McNight opened the top of the container, sandy white powder became discernable. As McNight sprinkled a little bit of the powder over Draco's wounds, he screamed hoarsely.

A wicked smile laced on McNight's cruel countenance. "I hope you have your lesson. Now you know what happens to those who tries to take what belongs to me, don't you, Draco?" Smug satisfaction plastered all over McNight's face, and once more he felt vigorous.

Draco's agonizing cries and shrieks remained confined within that place throughout the night. But no came for him...

-/-

**Author Notes:** Hope you loved the chapters. I will be updating the last few within next week Sorry, for the delay.

Update: 08. 17. 07

Review please.

Bye.


	9. Rising Suspicions

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and its characters belong to J. K. Rowling and Warner Brothers and its associates; it does not belong to me.

**Chapter 9: Rising Suspicions**

A distant relentless tapping and banging sound was heard in one of the rooms at Hogwarts in the early hours of the morning.

"Poppy, wake up!" Severus Snape said in a pressing tone.

Usually, Madam Poppy Pomfrey remained awake and alert, in the late hours of the night, looking after her patients, giving them medications or alleviating their pain. But since today the Hogwarts school nurse had no patients, she was in her room, taking nap.

"Just a minute." Poppy said groggily. Her silk rose-colored night dress was creased up towards the end, as she removed herself from the blue quilt over her. She wore another cotton blue cloak, before opening the heavily pounding door. The medallion watch, given by a dear friend of hers, told it was close to three in the morning. A big yawn filled her half asleep middle-aged countenance.

"A minute, Severus. I'm coming!" Poppy shouted as she tied the satin blue belt and ran towards the door.

Severus Snape, the most feared teacher in Hogwarts, rushed inside the Hospital Wing medicine cabinet as soon as Poppy opened the one side of the big brown door

"Whoa..." Poppy was flabbergasted. She had never seen Professor Snape acting so out of character before. Reserved, serious, cold, distant, and scary (for some students) would describe the most frightened teacher of Hogwarts. But now, he was the one who was looking frightened and alarmed.

"What's the matter, Severus?" Madam Pomfrey inquired. "Do you need..."

"...Get me three bottles of Skele-Gro, lots of blood replenishing potions, and healing potions, now!! " Severus barked Poppy, before even she could finish her speech. He was looking through some red and yellow potions. "Get some strengthening potions, a burn-healing paste, and a dreamless sleep potion as well and come with me into my personal chambers, immediately!"

There was a feeling of deep solemnity in Severus Snape's voice. She brought the concoctions within minutes and set off with him instantaneously, after locking her door.

"What is the matter, Severus? Is someone hurt?" Poppy inquired on the way, as they walked towards the Slytherin Chambers.

"Someone attacked Draco over the night." Professor Snape said in a mixture of chilly and worried pitch. "He was tortured, beaten and stabbed. I found him unconscious, bled out, about half-an-hour ago, lying outside and in front of the Slytherin common room doors.

"What?" replied Pomfrey. "Who did this?"

"I don't know." Severus said, as they both turned towards the left. They turned once more towards the right found themselves in a long underground course. Huge silver-black hue stone walls lined up both ways. The entire pathway was dim and murky, bar the long narrow metal made torches that were placed on the walls to shed light

They went past the entrance to the Slytherin common room door. They twisted and turned some more before standing in front of a large polished black door. In front of the door, there was no handle or knob to turn open the door from inside. Instead there was an image of a serpent, which had a silver-white tinge. It gleamed in the darkness like a star in the night sky. The snake was an accurate design of King Cobra, (one of the world's most deadliest and venomous snakes). The serpent twisted and coiled within itself repeated. Head was so deeply shrouded within its body that it hard to see.

"_Serpentis Naga."_ Snape uttered in front of the large polished black door. The snake gave a counterclockwise twist, and the door opened (with an ominous sound coming from within the room).

Whimpers, groans were the sound that filled the room, as they both entered the Severus Snape's personal chambers. Light illuminated the interior, and a person could see that the entire room was decorated in black, green and white colours. The long white embroidered drapes fluttered as strong gust passed by.

"Draco, it's okay." Severus Snape spoke softly to his godson. "I'm here."

"Oh God!" Madam Pomfrey uttered in an appalling voice. Shock evident in her appearance. She was removing Draco's upper garments, but as she tried getting his cloak and shirt out from the back, Draco gave out a loud cry, full of pain. As she turned the boy around to see what was causing him discomfort, she came eye to eye with a horrific laceration

As Poppy was placing potions and pastes all over Draco's cuts and gashes and, something brushed against her fingers, As she deeply palpated into wound, (which resulted a loud whimper coming from Draco, and Snape giving Poppy a dark look), she found traces of something granulated in her fingers. As she pressed against this powder, she was shocked.

"Severus," Poppy said seriously, "I don't like the looks of this. His attacker not only lacerated him, but also put salt into his wounds. Whoever has done this, I don't think is of sane mind."

Severus was pouring some Dreamless sleep Potion down his godson's throat before he took notice of what Madam Pomfrey was declaring, after they were done tending to his injuries. Draco was completely bandaged up over his entire body, and was sleeping (though whimpering and crying at times). Both, Severus and Poppy's, attire was stained with crimson liquid.

"Whoever has done this to him, had been very careful and smart. His attacker was cunning and ingenious. He or she left no evidence behind so that anyone catch him or her." Snape said, a bit wearied-ly.

"I hope someone catches him soon. I've never seen anyone who could attack a young child like that. This person has to be pure evil to do something like that." Poppy said tearfully.

"Watch over him." Professor Snape said, back in his cold voice. "I'm going to notify Dumbledore that we've an unknown assailant at Hogwarts." With that said, Snape stood up straight, looking somber, and than walked towards the door.

Poppy looked sadly at the injured and quivering sleeping boy, as the door clicked shut.

XXXXXX

"The dark elementals are categorized in a far higher level classification than the three unforgivables. Born millennia ago, from the amalgamation of hatred, fear, pain, and malice of the victims, the dark elementals had the power to corrupt even the most purest and innocent person..."

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class; it was the last class in their daily schedule. The class was almost over (they were here since two in the afternoon). Professor McNight was teaching the class the about the _dark elemental _magic which was a part of _dark curses_..

"...The person who wanted to perform the ritual of dark elementals would have to do atrocious crimes before they could become the master of dark elementals. Sacrifice of at least one living creature, be they human, witch, or creature, was an essential part in creating these magiks. If the ritual was successful, than darkness and corruptness would fill those persons by making them their servants."

Harry sat as far away from McNight as possible. In the end, he chose the last empty seat, in the room. He didn't want to see his smirking face, chestnut-brown eyes looking at his body lasciviously. Harry hated that McNight. He was now trying to find a reason as to why he liked him at the fast place; he now realized that what he felt for the man was infatuation, not love. But it was too late, when he realized the truth.

"Mr. Potter..." McNight inquired. "Could you please share with the class what are you thinking about."

But before he could reply, the sound of a bell gong could be heard throughout the Hogwarts. The class was empty within minutes, but not before McNight gave the entire class homework to write a detailed essay about the "dark elements magiks"

"Mr. Potter, could you stay here for a minute." McNight inquired. Harry was walking a bit slowly and was almost near the door.

"Mate, don't worry, if we're back at the dorm a bit late, okay." Ron whispered, as Harry stayed behind. Tom who walked away from the group earlier, turned into the direction of the library, rather than going to the Great Hall for lunch.

On the other side of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Ron and Hermione sneakily trailed back behind Michael, who was going towards the direction Ravenclaw dormitory.

_I'm done._ Michael mused. _It's so hot and humid, and I'm soaked._ He nearly jogged through the long narrow white marble-floored corridors and the frequently moving staircases

But before they could confront Michael, someone came dashing behind the inquisitorial dyad crying and weeping. Hermione and Ron had lost their balance and fell on the floor two loud thuds, as Michael spinned around sharply. He saw a profoundly weeping Pansy running away from them.

_Pansy_. Michael pondered _What's the matter? Why are you_ _weeping._ There was soft and tender look in his eyes, which abruptly hardened as Michael saw the two fallen duos.

"What are you two doing here?" He inquired roughly, as saw his arch-rivals on the floor.

With a glared stare and some undesired assistance, Hermione and Ron stood up, shaking dirt out of their coal black uniform. Both of them gave him an accusing stare in return.

"We want to know what you said to Harry the other day." Hermione asked sharply.

There was a sharp look in his eyes, before they once more became aloof. "Why? Did he came and fussed to you about how I called him a blind and buffoon?"

"Shut up! Michael." Ron responded rudely. "We know that you know why Harry is acting peculiarly?"

"Oh! Really!" Michael replied coldly. "What am I? His mother. Sorry. It should be father, not _mother_."

"TELL ME THE TRUTH!!!!!" Hermione screamed, "WHAT'S WRONG WITH HARRY?!"

"Tsk! Tsk! Tsk!" Michael said astutely. "Poor little _mudblood_ is worried about her _half-breed_ ragamuffin companion. Is that stray boy your sweetheart? Is this why you're coming after me?"

"Shut the **CENSOR** up?" Ron spat.

"Oh my!" Michael snickered. "So _mudblood_, it looks like you have two lovers, don't you? So you're a whore now, isn't it?"

"Shut up!" Hermione altercated furiously. She clutched his white shirt collar in her fists. "WHAT. IS. WRONG. WITH. HARRY. TELL ME? AND TELL ME NOW?" Hermione's face flushed, with all the yelling, and Ron looked as red as flaming red tomato. Though rage were visible in the eyes, amongst all three.

Hermione fell on the floor once more, as Michael forcefully removed her hands from his shirt. There was an angry and cold unfeeling look in his eyes and appearance. His lips thinned to the point that it appeared as if he had no lips, and his hands tuned into fists.

"LISTEN TO ME, **CENSOR CENSOR**..." Michael spat, "I've no idea what is wrong with your **CENSOR **friend I'm not his secretary, and I don't care if your lovely friend gets himself killed with Avada Kedavra. For all I care he could be busy fucking a man or a whore. Understand" Michael replied softly, yet it was latched with such coldness, it ran a shiver down Hermione's spine.

"What's going on here?" Severus Snape inquired from behind.

"It's nothing" Michael replied. "We had a misunderstanding. I cleared it up for them. That's all, Professor." With that said, he asked Professor Snape permission to leave to go his dorm.

"You two would better behave and go back to your dorms, otherwise far more House Points will be lost" Severus Snape scowled at them.

"Sorry." Hermione replied. "We're on our way...

Severus Snape looked at them for sometime before turning and walking towards the Slytherin rooms, with a worried look in his cold obsidian eyes.

* * *

Tom, wearing his traditional black-green colored uniform, came and sat down in the Slytherin side of the Great Hall. He took two herb-roasted chicken legs, lamb curry, honey-BBQ roasted sweet potato, three buns, boiled green beans, and vegetables. His outward appearance didn't betray the slightest of emotions that was raging inside of him. Tom gradually took a bite of the herb-roasted chicken leg, before drinking pumpkin juice.

_There's something wrong with Harry. I can feel it in my bones. He has become so distant from us._ Such thoughts swirled around Tom's mind. He had been worried about Harry for sometime now.

_And who attacked Draco so viciously. His brutal attacker almost wanted to murder him._ Tom remembered what Pansy said about some unknown assailant brutally assaulting, almost killing his friend, Draco. From the inside, Tom was worried about his friends though he wouldn't express it.

Tom remembered when he abruptly had to return back to Defense Against Dark Arts class from the library. When he came back, it was somewhat unclear what he saw, but it wasn't good. He saw Professor McNight pulling Harry's face towards and spoke something (Tom didn't know the content of the speech) which frightened Harry to no end. It was as if Charles McNight was threatening Harry with something.

Tom took chocolate pudding and a piece of apple pie, and looked around a bit. Worried expressions displayed in Head of Slytherin face as well as the Headmaster's face. Draco wasn't to be seen in Great Hall, and a gossip spread throughout the school that he had gotten a wizard's contagious cold.

"Are you going back to the dorm, Tom?" Blaise inquired. Her eyes puffy red with crying. She didn't eat much thinking too much about Draco's condition.

"Yes."

"Oh!" Blaise replied. "Aren't you going to visit Draco?"

"I don't think Professors will give permission to visit him now. The condition of his health is precarious. I will visit him as soon as they give us consent to visit him, alright." With saying that Tom rose from the bench, and left the Great Hall.

Thoughts once more swirled around his head. _What did McNight say that brought fear in Harry's face. He doesn't get frightened that easily. _

A sudden thought abruptly entered his mind, which threw his entire train of thought away. _Before Draco was found outside the Slytherin rooms, he said that McNight called him up. I remember it distinctly he said this to Blaise and Pansy as well. Today, Harry looked frightened of McNight. _

Somehow these thoughts wouldn't leave him. It tortured him to no end. _Why wouldn't all these leave me. Is McNight somehow involved? Are the events related?_

A sharp breath left his lips.

* * *

**Update:** 08/ 29/ 07 


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